


Tomorrow and Tomorrow

by musiclily88



Category: Little Mix (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Marriage, One Night Stands, Porn, Porn With Plot, Wedding Night, Weddings, just fluff, utter fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:08:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclily88/pseuds/musiclily88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Quick, follow me!” She yanked at his arm again, pulling him away from the entrance of the church and down a side corridor.</p>
<p>“Are you kidnapping me?” he rasped out, laughter light in his voice. She shot him an exasperated look. “Not that I’m complaining, not at all. In fact, I wish more attractive vixens in red saw fit to grab me in churches.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow and Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Folks, I dunno. Kitty asked me to write something fluffy and sparkly and cute, and this was the result.
> 
> PRETEND it's a Christmas wedding.

**One Should Do It**

“Quick!” 

Niall heard a hiss from somewhere to his left before he was unceremoniously yanked sideways by a hand to the wrist.

“Quick what?” he stuttered, panicking slightly. 

Eyes wide, he took in the image of the person who was tugging at his sleeve, and he shot out an easy grin. She was squeezed tight and firm into a cocktail dress, looking a vision in fiery red. Her curled hair spiraled around her shoulders, and her mocha-coloured skin glittered in the light of the vestibule. He swallowed, voice momentarily lost at the sight of her.

“Quick, follow me!” She yanked at his arm again, pulling him away from the entrance of the church and down a side corridor.

“Are you kidnapping me?” he rasped out, laughter light in his voice. She shot him an exasperated look. “Not that I’m complaining, not at all. In fact, I wish more attractive vixens in red saw fit to grab me in churches.”

She snorted not stopping her forward movement down the quiet hall. “Vixens.”

“Are you going to ravish me in the undercroft?” he asked quietly as they shoved through a heavy door.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Oh, my—Z—my friend told me that’s what the basement is called? Of churches like this. The undercroft.”

“Okay.” She shrugged, pushing open a toilet door—the women’s toilet, Niall noted wrily—and moved them both inside. “Here’s the thing,” she began, rounding on him and dropping his wrist.

“Right.”

“The thing is, I need your help.”

“Who are we making jealous, then?”

“No, that’s not—no. Wow, you have very straight teeth,” she mused, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Yes?”

“You’re Irish too? Not the point, sorry, right.” She rubbed her hands against the fabric covering her marvelous thighs, giving him an apologetic glance.

“Are you—who are we trying to make jealous, exactly?”

“Oh, sure, just because I’m a female it has to be about making someone jeal—” she began before Niall swiftly covered her mouth with a gentle hand.

“No, right, not at all. I just assumed.” He uncovered her mouth and offered a bright grin. “But you did drag me down here for a reason, eh, so how about you tell me it.”

“Be a groomsman.”

“Be a who-what?”

“Close enough,” she responded, throwing a deep grey blazer at his face with an additional, “I’m Jesy.”

“I’m Niall.”

“Yup.”

“Just yup?”

“Mhm. Put on the blazer, Niall, unless you’d like me to do it for you.”

“Is that an option?” he asked brightly, holding it up for her.

“Not really.”

“You realize I’m already wearing clothing, right?”

“Yes, that’s why I nabbed you. These should fit you.” Next she held up a pair of grey trousers, giving him a bright smile.

“You only want me for my body?” he asked, incredulous, beginning to shuck the jacket off his shoulders. “That has literally never happened to me before.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She took his original blazer and hung it on a hanger, placing it on a hook behind her.

“Look, you don’t have to flatter me. I’ll do pretty much whatever you want, just explain what you need.”

“That’s—okay, whatever. Lou came down with something that’s kept his head in a bin for the past five hours, so I—”

“Who in their right mind would trust Louis to be best man?”

Jesy sighed. “He’s not—look, he wasn’t—right. I don’t want to get into the politics of weddings with you right now, particularly not when Liam’s face still looks like a pinched sphincter. But you fit Lou’s suit, and apparently it’s the duty of the maid of honour to procure replacement groomsmen. I don’t know.” She surveyed his torso, nodding at the fit. “The trousers should fit you too,” she added, handing them to him and turning around to give him a modicum of privacy.

“So, maid of honour. That’s quite a responsibility,” Niall said awkwardly, toeing off his shoes as he unbuckled his belt.

“Well,” Jesy added in wry tones, “apparently being the bride’s ex earned me the title.”

_“What.”_ Niall dropped his belt onto the floor, a clatter echoing loudly in the tiny toilet.

“Yeah. I swear, are you new here or something? Who are you even here for?”

“What?” Niall recommenced changing trousers, pulling them off his legs gracelessly.

“Bride’s side or groom’s?”

“Groom.”

“How do you know him?”

“We go way back. Went to college together, started a band.” He fell silent for a moment, considering how much he ought to tell her. With a shrug, he added, “Lost track of one another during uni a bit but that thick-as-thieves thing doesn’t really go away. We see each other when we see each other. He’s a brother to me.”

“Yeah.” Jesy nodded slowly. “I understand that.”

He stepped into the grey slacks and shimmied them over his thigh, thumbing the button closed easily. “Who in their right mind would ask Lou to be their best man,” Niall muttered, shaking his head.

“Who says Zayn’s in his right mind?”

“Wow, you—are a really weird maid of honour.”

“Are you dressed?” Jesy huffed, turning around. “We only have like a half-hour at best.” She pursed her lips, giving him a generous once-over. “Nice fit.” She smoothed the material over his shoulders and quirked her lips into a smile. “I’ve got a good eye.”

“That sounded like a compliment.”

“It wasn’t.” She fixed the red pocket square in the jacket. “The grey looks nice with your eyes, though.”

“Thanks.”

“Even if you are a bottle blond.”

“And here we are.”

She gathered his discarded trousers and hung them up as well. “You ever been in a wedding before?”

“Brother’s. Walk, stand, smile, look pretty. Avoid falling over drunk until the end of the reception. Dance with the hottest bridesmaid.”

Jesy snorted, folding her arms across her chest. “Sounds like you’ve got it.”

“And don’t let Louis have tequila the night before the ceremony.”

“I tried to warn them, but no one listens to me.”

“More like Louis listens to no one. I hope you have the rings somewhere safe.”

“If I tell you they’re in my cleavage will you _not_ give me a perverted grin?”

Niall clamped his mouth shut and breathed carefully through his nose. After a moment, he said, “I feel like I’ve been conscripted into a very bossy army.”

“It’s for the greater good.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re really the maid of honour in your ex’s wedding?”

“She asked me to.” Jesy held out a bent arm, beckoning him forward. “Let’s go.”

***  
Admirable attempt made at standing up at his friend’s wedding, Niall found himself seated at the end of the head table, Jesy by one side.

“I don’t have to make a speech, do I?” he asked, placing his chin carefully against her shoulder as he whispered.

“Nah, mate. You’re golden.” Jesy leaned away and picked up her champagne flute, taking a sip. “Louis’ head has emerged from the rubbish bin only looking slightly worse for wear.” She gestured to Louis across the room, where he was leaning against the bar. He looked neat, if exhausted, in a black suit. “So he said he’d give his speech or whatever. I can’t run everything. I’m not god,” she added with a lazy shrug.

“You’re the closest thing I’ve ever met,” he countered.

“Flatterer.”

“They look happy.” Niall gestured with his chin to the centre of the table where Perrie and Zayn were grinning at one another, heads tucked in close.

“They are. They are happy.”

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He nudged Jesy’s elbow gently, casting his eyes down to his empty plate and full glass.

“And do I look happy?” she said, one eyebrow arched and a teasing smile on her lips.

“Right now, just this moment? Yeah, you do.”

“Hm.” She exhaled slightly through her nose, giving him a side-eyed glance. “Get me a drink, please?”

“What’ll it be? Vodka tonic? Appletini? White wine and ice cubes?”

She laughed, her voice tinkling loudly across the long table. “Gimlet. Gin, please.”

“Pint of lager, coming up!” he called, walking away with a skipping step. She rolled her eyes, fake lashes fluttering against her cheeks. 

“Lou!” he crowed next, crowding up against Louis who was still stationed on front of the bar. “Lou, my main man. How’s the head?”

“Head’s pounding like a cock in the ass. How are you, Ni?” Louis called back, pulling him into a tight hug complete with a clap to the back. “It’s been ages.”

“Good, Lou, great. Belfast is treating me well. How are you? How’s Haz?”

“Fantastic as ever. Footie’s going well. I’ll be insulted if you say you haven’t caught my matches,” he said with a smirk as Niall rolled his eyes. “And Haz is good too, with the whatsa-ma fashion merchandising thing.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Louis asked abruptly, leaning into Niall’s face with a lascivious wink.

“Course you can, mate.”

“We’re thinking of having a baby.” Louis’ face went abruptly serious, small lines gracing the corners of his mouth.

“You’re—a baby. Which of you will—”

“Well, like, adopting or having a donor or something, since we are without womb. But still!”

“That’s great, that’s amazing. Where is Harry, I want to congratulate him?”

“Fixing one of the bridesmaid’s dresses, still, I think. The flower girl got a little zealous with the bubbles and poured them into Jade’s lap. It were proper adorable, actually, if sticky.”

“Oh, right.”

“He’ll be back soon. Save him a dance, yeah?”

“Course, one for the both of you.”

Louis gave him a bright cheeky smile. “So, the suit fits fine, then?”

“It—yeah.” Niall adjusted the lapels, feeling suddenly on-display in a way he hadn’t before now.

“Good.” Louis shot him a wink and smile before sidling off with a drink in his hand.

“Um.” Niall blinked rapidly, moving forward to order a gimlet and a neat whiskey, trying not to give his situation too much thought. He handed Jesy her drink, noting wryly that she had placed her stocking feet on his chair. “Move ‘em, pretty lady, for a quick sec.”

She moved her feet into the air until he settled back into his chair, then she placed them carefully into his lap. “Thanks, kitten.”

“Excuse me?”

“Is that emasculating? I so easily lose track of the male ego,” she responded, shaking her head as she picked up her glass.

“Are you—that is. I mean. So you date girls, then?”

“And boys. And people. And women. And men.” She quirked a brow. “Only those of age. I promise.”

“Right. I just wondered. Wondered,” he added lamely.

“That is a very strange come-on, I’ll have you know.”

“You want to know the strangest come-on ever? Getting roped into being a groomsman by the prettiest one at the party.” Niall took a long draw of his drink. “Not that I mind.”

“Clearly.” Jesy tensed her calves and wiggled her toes. “You gonna dance with me later?”

“If I know what’s good for me.”

“Attaboy.” Jesy took a sip from her drink, gaze dropping from his. “Glad you agreed to do this.”

“Me too actually. Nice to see them up-close like. Happy and loved-up.”

She laughed, high and loud. “You could have seen that anyway, I’d wager.”

“Nice to meet you, then,” he amended, gripping her hand quickly, rubbing her thumb with his.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re not?” His laugh shattered the illusion that they were being serious, that they were being discrete. His laugh grounded them but also made them temporary. “You’re at your ex’s wedding, babe. If you’re not drunk, you’re a fool.”

“I’m a fool for a lot of reasons, then.”

Niall grasped his glass with the hand not gripped in Jesy’s. “Such as.”

“Oh, you know. Being done in by a pair of bright eyes and a cute arse.” She pressed her heels into the top of his thighs, waggling her toes. “By a silly boy with a starlight smile,” she whispered, ducking her chin down to avoid his gaze.

“You gonna dance with me?”

“Like I’d do anything else.”

***

And later they were pressed in close, whiskey and gin warm on their breath, lights dropped low. The music pulsed gently, the noise giving them a thoughtful farewell that felt like a benediction.

“They look happy,” Jesy stuttered into Niall’s ear as she drew him in close. Her feet were bare but for stockings, her body covered with the tight red fabric of her dress.

“They are happy,” he agreed, nestling into her body as the song drew to a close. As the next song started up, he asked, “Are you? Happy, I mean.”

“Sure, kitten.” She ducked in closer, her forehead grazing his chin. “You’re nice, you know.”

“Nice?”

“Sweet, like.”

“Sweet.”

Jesy laughed, tinkling against Niall’s cheek. “If that’s emasculating, I don’t care.”

He paused and felt the booze warm in his belly. After a pause, he said, “I’m just—trying to wrap my head around you.”

“It would take a millennia.”

“It would.” He yanked her in closer, praying it was possible to press their chests together further. “You’re lovely.”

“You’re a dream.”

“This—this, Jes,” he breathed into her ear. “It’s—easier and harder than I thought it would be.”

“Harder? Easier? I’m confused. D’you think I’d fall at your feet? You consider me a lesbian? The world is dying to know.” He felt her smirk against his cheek, their faces still pressed together.

“No, you’re just—babe, you’re just so lovely.”

She darted away from his grasp for a moment, furrowing her brow. “Look, I didn’t—pull you aside out of some attempt to chase you, all right? It’s not like I’m thirsty for every random groomsman.”

“I’m not a groomsman,” he reminded her.

“Oh, shut up,” she argued, wrapping one arm around the back of his neck. “Look, Irish, I have some honourable things to do, but I don’t—I don’t think this is the end of this, yeah?”

“Yeah. Course. Yeah.”

“Good.” She nodded sharply, pressing a thumb to his chin. “Give me, what, twenty minutes to wrangle these cats, yeah?”

“Oh,” he breathed, nodding succinctly.

“Room seven-twenty, Mr. Wilde. Be there in an hour.”

“Like Oscar?” he asked, brows furrowed. She nodded. “You do know I’m not gay, right?”

Jesy bit her bottom lip. “I’m banking on it.”

***  
Ceremony and reception buttoned up—bride and groom relegated to their honeymoon suite with champagne and sweets and a bucket of ice—Niall unceremoniously shucked off his jacket in the room he had purchased for the evening, before hurrying away to the seventh floor.

Then he took a breath as though to shield himself from something damaging. And he knocked. Seven-twenty, he found and pressed against the door quickly, his fist pounding with pressure he didn’t understand.

He refused to whisper or cat-call or gesture at all but for his hand. Knocking was ceremony enough, and he rapped against the door with his knuckles like his life might end with it.

She answered the door, and of course she was lovely—lovelier than he had thought she might be, even after a wedding, even after drinking him under the table.

“You’re kind of wonderful, you know.”

“I’m something indeed,” she agreed, nodding him into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.

“You smashed that wedding.”

“And you’re just smashed,” she countered. “Do we need more champagne?”

“Not sure I could handle more bubbles right now.” He stood in the middle of the room, unsure what trajectory his night was going to take.

“Ooh, what about a bubble bath? That sounds decadent, doesn’t it? Something you’d definitely do in a posh hotel you’re never going to stay in again? With a pretty blond boy who looks at you like you’re the best thing in the world?”

“As far as I’m concerned, you are.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, turning her back to him. “Unzip me, if you would.”

With delicate fingers, he held the top of her dress and moved the zipper down. Each inch bared another inch of dazzling skin, and he was close enough to catch the scent of her body. She smelt of hairspray and salt, tinged overtop with a touch of lime and something sharp. Beneath her red dress she wore a lace bra, navy-blue and delicate looking from where Niall stared down at it.

“Do you really want to take a bath right now?” he whispered against her bouncy-bright hair, dropping his fingers from her dress.

“You don’t?” She moved the red fabric off her shoulders, letting it fall away from her body before she stepped out of it.

He swallowed audibly. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I know.” She picked up her dress and tossed it onto the hotel bed before spinning on her heel to enter the bathroom. “If you don’t follow me, I will be questioning your life choices.”

He scrambled to comply, shuffling forward while he considered whether or not to take his shirt off. Assuming that might be presumptuous, he simply followed her into the bathroom.

“You look amazing in red,” he said, “but the blue is beautiful too.”

She tinkled a laugh again, lighting a spark inside Niall’s chest. “I know the compliments are genuine, babe, but you don’t—you don’t have to do that.” She rounded on him, breasts bouncing slightly in her lace bra. Niall, pretending to be a gentleman, dropped his gaze and noticed that her panties were likewise navy blue.

“You’re a menace, you are.”

“It’s been said.” She spun the taps of the large white bathtub, resting her hand beneath the spray. “Is there actually bubble bath in this posh palace?”

“I’m too distracted to check,” Niall conceded sheepishly.

“Oh my. I’d be scandalized if I hadn’t already asked you to strip me of my clothes.”

“I didn’t—”

“Joke,” she said softly, walking toward him with one hand outstretched. Grabbing the collar of his shirt, she began unbuttoning his dress shirt. “You’re a little wound up, aren’t you?”

“I’m normally not, really,” Niall mused, dropping his chin to his chest so he could watch her fingers work at the buttons. “Kind of the opposite, actually.”

‘But?” she asked, reaching the last button and dropping her hands.

“Out of my element, I guess. It’s not my suit, you see.”

“Best to get it off you, then.”

He pulled his arms out of the sleeves and set the shirt on the counter of the bathroom vanity. He thumbed at the button of the trousers, noting that his motions mirrored ones he had made just a few hours prior.

“So,” Jesy said, fiddling with the taps, gauging the temperature of the water. “Hooking up with the hottest bridesmaid, then. Was it just a line?”

“More like a really hopeful wish.” He ducked his head down again as he stepped out of his borrowed trousers, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Bit of hubris on your part, no?”

He snapped his head up, grinning at her. “I’m thanking my lucky stars, actually. Believe me.” He set the slacks on top of his discarded shirt.

“I’d believe you more if you weren’t talking, actually.” She stepped in closer to him, one hand still damp from where she had tested the bathwater. She pressed one thumb against his jaw, and he reflexively smiled. Leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheekbone. “If you’d like to take a bath in your skivvies, you can continue as you are. Otherwise, feel free to take my lead.”

With that, she unhooked her bra and removed the straps from her shoulders, letting it fall from her chest slowly. Niall had no idea where to look and he bit his lip over a small whimper. She slid her thumbs inside the elastic of her panties, slipping the silky material down her thighs. Smirking, she stepped out of them with a grace he envied, then she discarded them as well.

Without another word, she stepped into the bath and turned off the water. He hastened to take off his own pants and was gratified to see she was still smiling at him. Returning her smile, he stepped into the water and sat down across from her.

She surged forward gently in the water, kneeling close to him until his legs bracketed her body. Without a thought, he rested his hands on her lower back. Her skin pebbled beneath his touch.

Pressing his fingers against her, he brought their bodies closer together and pressed his lips against hers. Then he retreated, fingers moving lightly to her sides. He spun her around gently and settled her body between his legs, settling her back against his chest.

He peppered her shoulders and neck with feathery kisses, causing her to laugh. “That’s more like it.” His hands ghosted over her breasts, fingers lingering at her nipples when he heard her inhale slightly. Her back arched against him and he bit his lip rather than risk saying something.

He pressed one hand against her ribs, letting her lean back against him as his other hand explore the skin of her neck, collarbone, shoulder, and arm. He relished her wild intake of breath, not simply because she curled into him as she sucked in breath.

Niall dropped his lips to the curved spot where her neck met her shoulder, kissing and sucking in even measure.

“Oh,” Jesy exhaled softly, snaking her hand backward to cup the back of Niall’s neck, pulling him in closer—as though it were possible, as though they weren’t pressed as hard against one another as they absolutely could be.

“Oh?” he said softly, lips near her hair.

“Oh yes,” she agreed, lashes fluttering as she closed and opened her eyes, their skin flush against one another.

“Are you happy?” he asked, teeth light on her earlobe, fingers light on her breast.

“Yes. More and more each day.”


End file.
